


Casi Amante

by moxiao402



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, It's really late I know, M/M, Real Madrid CF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-07-27 17:20:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7627186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moxiao402/pseuds/moxiao402
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Did I make it that easy<br/>To walk right in and out of my life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Today

**Author's Note:**

> Hello people, I have no idea about writing Notes, so please bear with me. Writing this Serzil prompt for my girlfriend <3, it's gonna be one of those really long stories and I have no idea about how to end this.  
> Please feel free to leave any comment.  
> All works are unbetaed due to work and school, I sincerely apologise for that.  
> Feel free to point out grammar mistakes or Spanish or German mistakes, please! English is my second language and I have no idea about Spanish or German...  
> Ok no more bullshit, lets see how this will turn out. 
> 
> From Moxiao402

 

 _Intento no pensar en tí_  
_Puedes tan solo dejarme en paz?_  
_Te he dado la espalda_  
_debi haber sabido que me partirías el corazón_  
_Así como siempre lo hacen los casi amantes_  
   -  
"Mes, this is your new room." 

Life in Madrid was different from what he imagined. Moving out of the spacious 5 bedroom family house to the small apartment of his cousin Sami's seemed of a huge step forward, or backward, maybe. The bedroom appeared larger than what he expected for. A double bed of white cotton covers caught his attention then small writing desk, bookshelves of magazines and bed side tables with photos from who knows how many years ago. Mesut felt, touched? Impressed? Or a mixture of joy and amusement for his cousin's consideration. Let alone that Sami is currently studying in his last year of university, owning an apartment, car and a well-paid part time job is probably the most you can expect from a twenty four years old. 

"Thanks Sami, you're the best, " he offers his older cousin a warm smile followed by a gentle tap on his shoulder. Mesut places both luggage cases near the shelves, suddenly feeling the relaxation within his shoulders. He yawned groggily, mumbling few words in German, "wait.... What time is it?" 

The older man chuckled a little, then reached and ran his fingers through the younger boy's soft black hair. "Time for you to get some sleep from this rate." 

Sami plucked his phone from the right jean pocket and took a quick glance, "It's only three o'clock. I can't believe that you're tired already, little baby Mesut Ozil." 

The boy shot his cousin an unamused glare. His hands stuck out swiftly, Mesut grabbed him by the sides and gave him a slight shock. "Sami Khedira, just because I'm younger doesn't mean I'm a baby ok? I'm almost legal here!" 

"Almost, is still almost. You're still a kid until you get a girlfriend," the older man laughed at both the comment and the ticklish feeling, but grabbed the boy's wrist after a short while, "dude if you don't rest then you might miss out on the dinner. You wouldn't wanna miss out would you?" 

"Wow, what a cold person. " He pouted, giving his cousin's shoulder a soft punch after the man released his wrist. Fingers gripping on the door knob while trying to shove the other man out of the room, he mumbled "I'll see you later then, don't miss me when I'm gone." 

The door faintly clicked shut followed by Sami's exit. The room suddenly fell in silence with a trickle of loneliness. Curtains flowed freely at the warm Summer air, exposing the sight of high rises in the surrounding. Mesut wondered of his friends in Germany and their holiday. Still remembering the multitudinous text messages from everyone on the football just in the span of one night. Reading through the good lucks and best wishes made him feel tight in the stomach as his heart dropping from the previous excitement. He is mostly afraid. But not the same extent as being scared. 

Eyes gazing at the street clogged with heavy traffic and people. The cream painted walls followed by fresh summer air contrasted with his life in Germany. Comparing with the industrial city of Gelksenkirchen, Madrid appeared to be more exotic and historical. Each windows on the buildings were crafted differently to the large reflecting glass and metal panels. The foreign colour droplets of red, green and yellow also blended in with milky white, just to his liking. 

**"You home yet?"**

A slight vibration accompanied by a "ding" sound shook him away from his daze. 

**"Yea just got home."**

Just a message from Per, Mesut thought. 

**"Thomas asked me to text you, just checking if you're safe and not kidnapped by some Verrückter."**

His lips raised a little at the instant reply from his friend, quickly replied.

"Haha, Mir geht's gut, danke. How's your trip to England by the way? Met anyone new?"

The boy closed the window then untied the curtain as he kicked the slippers off his feet to an insignificant corner of the room. Snuggles to the soft cotton blankets, the fresh smell of lavender filled his nostrils driving him asleep with a sense of comfort. Sami really did put some effort into arranging this room, he thought appreciatively. 

Ding.  

The phone buzzed again, screen lighting up at the new notification.

**"Nothing much, Du musst müde sein nach so einer langen Reise. I'll leave you to some sleep. The others are probably gonna text you later tho."**

**"Yea, I'll text you when I have time. Say hi to them for me."**

He turns his phone off after ending the conversation with a "Tschüss." It was only the matter of time took for him to fall asleep. 

-

When Mesut opened his eyes again it was already sun down. Tints of orange with purple leaked through rims beneath the curtains, hurting against the sudden opening of his eyes. The boy blinked several times then slowly smothered his face into the warm blanket. He groaned at the dizziness and stars inside his brain while the room danced in Waltz, spinning in an unordered fashion.

" ** _Scheisse!"_**

The clock on the wall startled him as the shorter strand moved onto the number "5". Mesut cursed, slipping on a pair of blue jeans, a casual light grey T-shirt, some random jacket on the ground then dashed out of his bedroom. Time really isn't his friend today.

"Sami I'm up!" He calls for his cousin in German, rushing through the hallway. Suddenly loud laughters stormed in his ears.

It was unexpected to see another very handsome man standing beside his cousin. With beer in one hand and some box in the other, the man smiled at the arrival of the German and greeted,

_"Buenas tardes, Mesut. ¿Cómo estás?"_

He seemed like a nice person...Mesut wondered, mimicking " _B...Buenas tardes..."_ in his broken Spanish.

"Not bad, not bad," the Spanish's smile was even wider, showing a line of perfect straight teeth as he complimented the boy by English, giving him a slight rub on the back, "my name is Sergio by the way, if you were wondering."

If the teenager would say anything right now, he'll probably be exclaiming about this man's face to his other teenage friends. It's not the fact that he likes men, there were definitely girlfriends over the span of his life. Ok may be just a tiny little bit, if Per was ever considered as some of his ex-crushes, but Sergio's face is definitely a sight worth seeing on that Men's Health Magazine.

"Uh, hi Sergio. Nice to meet you." Mesut answered with a polite smile. Still quite unsure about his word choices, the boy gazed at those dark chocolate brown eyes, suddenly feeling the rise heat radiating from his face. 

 _Scheiße_.

It has happened again, stupid stupid hormones.


	2. Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes? Or No?  
> Just a little bit too fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's cliche.  
> It's not beta'd. I'm sorry guys, but thanks for the kudos. <3  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter.  
> It is so cliche and stupid it's not funny.

_I'm in trouble_

_I'm so cliche_

_See that word just wears me out_

_To laugh and joke about  
_

 

_-_

Mesut doesn't know if it was just a Spanish thing or a Sergio thing. You really don't usually give a box of heart shaped cookie pastry things to someone that you've just met. The boy stared at the home made  _Palmeras de Chocolate_ inside the small rectangle box and thought deeply. Sweet scent of cocoa lingered in the surrounding. Each breath was going to be the death of him, from chocolate of course. 

 

He blinked several times then reluctantly closed the box. Planting his face inside the sweaty palms, Mesut lets out a deep  _deep_ sigh. With his cousin and the cousin's _so called_ classmate missing in action at the current moment, a phone call back home would be good.

 

-

Eyes focused on the strange writing on the faint milky yellow page, Mesut's eyebrows cringed at his understanding towards this foreign language. Each phrase was different to his home language. The boy's thin lips pursed together as his fingers traced over the thin lines, some times parting his mouth to whisper out the words as if experimenting. The shop was quiet-

 

"¿Estas bien?" A deep, familiar voice rang from behind. 

 

Startled, Mesut turned around in an instant. Now looking at the older man in the eyes, he let out a groan and complained, "Dude, please don't _ever_ come up behind me ok? Especially in some bookstore."

 

"Well, you shouldn't be walking around in the public when you don't even know how to speak Spanish,  "Sergio chuckled at the annoyance in the boy's voice. Crossing his arms while leaned against the bookshelf the Spanish stated, "in fact you're only what, 15? Or 16? There are strange people around here you know, _niñito_?"

 

"Sixteen and German, OK?" Mesut raised his left eyebrow to the question. Hands clutched tightly to two Language text books and waved them at the older man. "I'll be studying these when I get home, just to make you happy." The sentence ended with a smile.

 

The conversation was strange, for both of them. Why would he be caring for some kid anyway, Sergio thought. One hand snatched a novel from the nearby shelf and began to flip through the opening chapter carelessly. He could still feel the existence of the younger boy. Faint fresh cotton and mint scent smothered the cramped space between them, followed by the shuffling sound of books and quiet footsteps. Back and forward, back and forward again, the timber floor echoed every step that he took, just replaying it with more frustration. 

 

"You want to go for coffee?" The Spanish asked and glanced up from the book, using one finger to crease lightly on the page. 

 

Mesut stared back with his astonishment filled large eyes. "Yea..?"

-

The street of Madrid was still busy during noon. Bright summer sun highlighted each corner, radiating heat onto the alluring Mediterranean styled buildings. Aroma of coffee, cinnamon and sugar blanketed the crowded street. Voice from high to low, young to old came from every direction. Overwhelmed by the populous surrounding, Mesut followed by the older man's side closely, clenching his right hand tightly to the rough fabric strap of his bag searching to gain some stress relieve.

 

It wasn't hard for Sergio to notice even the slightest actions from the teenager.

_Should I?_

 

The idea tumbled back and forth within his mind, plucking against every single nerve, sending tingling senses towards his palm, traveling into each finger. His hand was warm, at a _very_ noticeable extent. Still drowned within his thoughts, Sergio took a quick glance at the boy and slowed his pace. 

 

  
_Yes?_   _Or No?_

The man held out his left hand in a invitational manner. Their eyes contacted after a beat, now both standing and staring at each other, Sergio smiled, "You can hold my hand if you want, I don't want to lose you out here."

 

For the third time in one day, Mesut thought he was ought to have a heart attack. The boy could feel his cheeks heating, probably into the colour of the red colour on the Spanish National Team jersey for all his concern.  Eyes focused on the older man, he could not figure out an answer. Mesut's heart was beating, it was beating hard, trembling through out his body. His lips parted slightly, yet only the faintest simplest single syllable words came out. The answer was hard to project for the current moment, so his empty hand made its own decision and accepted the invite.

 

"Yea.. Thanks."

 

The teenager mumbled. It wouldn't bother him if the line wasn't heard anyway.

 

It was like getting placed with your crush for partner dancing. _Back to twelvie days again._ The boy is so pure, innocent and different in comparison with his other relationships. _Oh wait._ They've only known each other for three days and a bit more, if Sami counts as an influence. They're different in every way. This could be just the inner protective side of his. At least he _hoped_ so. Sergio held onto the boy's hand tighter by the slightest and closer to his side. Mesut's hand felt soft within his coarse, calloused fingers. Similar to his personality, the gentle touch of his was some what comforting, yet could taste the shyness. The man again took a quick glanced at the boy's soft thin lips. Imagining them like the faintest touch of his hands right now, just more delicate. Their eyes connected.

 

_Mein Gott! I'm acting like a girl._

Mesut repeated this thought in his head multitudinously. Screaming and squirming over whatever what is happening.

 

_How could a day be ever so cliche?_

-

The pair didn't talk until they turned around a corner block. The shop was delicate, well designed and _sweet_. When the glass paneled door opened, a warm air of spicy cinnamon and sugar flowed through, contrasting with the air conditioned room. Speckles of spot lights lit up the grey themed interior. Simple, quiet, yet modern just to his liking. 

 

"What would you like to have,  _niñito_? I can suggest a few deserts which are famous around here."

 

"Regular caramel latte please, and uh.. _Surprise me_."


	3. Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slow down and think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd as usual.  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter. I apologise for the strange plot and ooc.  
> The bold writing are German, I can't German so, interpret the scene.
> 
> Have a nice week ooooooop. <3

_I would never say that I love you,_   
_Because I'm afraid_   
_That I may not have such permission_   
_to speak to you with these words._   
_But I like you,_   
_Very, very much._

-  
Each bite of the warm golden crispy pastry lingered with a tingle of sweet and spiciness. Dancing on the floor of his taste bud, fulfilling the crave for so long. So long. Since he last tasted any good deserts. Delightful taste brightened the stressed mood of his, soothing the cringe between the boy's eye brows, gaining nearly an awe from his next breath which hang between the air. Thin, long fingers covered with speckles of sugar, then licked away slowly, rejoicing in the satisfying sense on his tongue. Accompanying the cinnamon sugar was the warmth of a smooth creamy texture along with a strong hint of dark cocoa. His departure to heaven, a split second experience earning his heart sincerely. Not just to the food.

"I'm guessing that you liked it." The older man's fingers tapped against the rim of the mug continuously, eyes wondered on the boy in a surprised manner. 

The boy eyed him with one raised eyebrow, casually questioned while looking away, smiling, "if I tell you that I loved it, are you going to laugh?"

"No, I'm quite glad actually, mi amigo," taking a sip of the piping hot bitterness, Sergio looked away at the pedestrians outside and murmured, "I remember when I took Sami here a few years ago, he had a different expression of course. Then I began to think that your whole family was similar to him and you've just proven me wrong."

"Sergio you do know that I'm not related to him that much, right?"Lips pouted, Mesut's expression dropped by the slightest. "I don't have the capability to become anywhere like him, well, at least I hope not."

"I did use past tense there, niñito" The man chuckled at the displeased countenance on the boy's face, speaking softly in blend with the quiet classical music accompaniment "You seem, very different from him. Which is a compliment, of course. You're different, if not, better than him in someway and you'll discover that one day."

Cheeks blushing, Mesut looked away in embarrassment, limiting the eye contact between them.

_Why the fuck would I ever say that?_

"As you see, I may be very judgmental at times, but I would like to know you better, or at least teach you that you're in ways better than your cousin, no matter how smart he is."

Yes, Sami is smart, he is good looking. That's not the current issue right now. This lecture kind of talk thing, confused him so much. Mesut contemplated through the entire conversation, still could not realise what happened to create such abnormal talk. 

 _There's something going on right?_  
-  
Sergio believed that he definitely something which added a sense of nerve to the atmosphere. Words become stuck inside his throat, yet unable to produce sounds of any kind. Thoughts, flash backs, puzzles of past memories piecing together for one hint of good deed.

_Slow down and think._

It's like sitting through the first examination of life, just better. It's a new feeling to him as socialising was a usual forte of his.

Not anymore. 

Young. Pure. A smile without burden. Straight teeth slightly showing under the curve of those thin soft lips of his, he chuckles. It was the youth which he lacked, due to age and responsibility. Sergio wishes to see more of such sight. At least, for once, to gain a chance to protect such innocence, to himself. Unlike before.

"You're an interesting person, Sergio."

He watched the young boy curiously, rethinking the statement. "And why would you say this?"

"Because we've only met each other once and you're telling me about how I should be happy about who I am," Their eyes didn't meet, but words kept its flow, "then may be we should talk to each other more often?" the boy's tone shook a little, "I mean, talk about life sometimes."

"Yeah." 

 _Churros are good._  
 _-_  
It was already dark when Mesut arrived at home. They waved each other good bye and next minute, the boy ran straight into his room.

**Guyyyyys HEELLP ME!!!**

The text sent, followed by a immediate sense of regret. 

**Ding. You have received one message**

**Lukas: Was geht?**

_Scheisse, it was the club chat. Good job Mesut Özil. 10/10 effort._  The boy took a quick glance at the LED screen, let out a Goan and crashed onto the bouncy mattress. His eyes focused on the street light which sank in through the curtains, both hands uncounciously covered his face. It was heat, radiating through his fingers. 

Ding. You have one message. 

**Lukas: Nemo you ok?**

**Dude, I want to go back to Germany, is that a bad thing to say...**

**Lukas: I'll take it as you're not ok. What do ya need help with? Fish? Girls? Homework? I can't understand Spanish tho.**

**No, I'm serious.**

**Lukas: Wait, you've only been there for five days.**

**Lukas: Did you suddenly fall in love with some Spanish guy or something.**

The vibration and reminder of the phone gave him head aches. He doesn't know how to explain this. His fingers stopped for the thoughts in his mind. They've known each other for years, but what if the others finds out?

**Yes and no???**

**Lukas: Mein Gott! I knew this was gonna happen one day.**

**Lukas: Our little Mes has got a man crush!!!**

**Don't tell anyone!!!!**

The phone was shaken by the force against the screen. He's frustrated, annoyed, and more frustrated. The blue Skype signal popped up on his screen. 

_Call from LP10. Accept or Decline._

With hesitation, fingers tapped at either side of the phone, tossing ideas like football practice. 

" **Lukas, Lukas, Lukas, what has brought you to call me on this very fine day."** Mesut picked up the phone with annoyance, frowning.

" **Oh I thought you would've wanted to hear my voice after 5 days, but mein** ** _Gott_ , you never tell me anything. Does the rest of 'em know about this?**" Tone from the other side was filled with surprise and excitement. Perhaps fangirling over this incident.

" **The other ones probably think I'm perfectly straight from what I believe. Thomas might know about it, Per might, I don't know who else would, but man you need to help me with this."** Mesut said plainly. 

 **"My dear client, what can I help you with today?"** Lukas joked.

**"I'm gonna strangle you when I go back. With your wisdom, enlighten about making conversations with older people."**

**"Oh lord, the guy is older than you? What planet are you on?"**

**"I'm on planet earth, thank you. He's Sami's friend!"**

**"Why don't you go for someone... Around our age?!"** Exclaimed Lukas.

" **Not everyone gets to date their team captain mate, there's only one of them. Besides, I did like Per ages ago you remember that right?"**

**"Yea sorta, wait.. That happened? and now you've moved onto some other dude, meeting him 5 days! How do you want me to help you? The guy isn't even German!"**

**"I don't know?! I don't even know if I like him or not!"**

**"Scheisse, then why do you ask me of this?! Our poor baby is confused awww."**

Mesut rolled over onto his stomach, smothering his face with the cotton quilt, distorted sounds muffling through the material. 

**"Please, Lukas I'm actually confused.."**

**"Mes, breathe. Just talk to him normally."**

**"Yes mother."** He joked.

**"Talk to me if you want, I'll figure something out for ya."**

**"Thanks man, I appreciate that."**

**"Think about your life choices, young one. Your fairy god mother is gonna get going. I'll tell them not to annoy ya."** The pair laughed.

Silence fell. Dim light from the street outside speckled within the room. Body relaxed, the boy laid in peace, fingers tracing over the cover of the novel he bought earlier on. 

School starts soon.

 

 

 


	4. Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's school?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd as always.  
> Thank you.  
> <3

_All I remember is that smile on your face_  
_And it'll kill me everyday_  
_'cause I don't even know your name_  
-  
_Buzzzzzz... Buzzzz..._

Golden light leaked through the thin gap between the curtains, drizzling over the white sheet. He's eyelids heavy, remaining reluctantly closed while frowned at the faint brightness. The boy turned over to his right side lethargically, fingers sliding through his soft tousled brown hair, brushing the long fringe beyond his forehead. Still curled within the warmness of his nest of quilts, he grabbed his phone from the bedside drawer. At the touch of his finger, the LED screen lit up, displaying bold number of "6:48". Mesut cringed. It was too early from the view of a teenager. Fresh breeze filled the room with a sweet scent of summer, accompanied with the sounds of birds and noises from the traffic, going back to sleep could be troublesome at time. Legs stretched, the boy sat up on his bed. Eyes observing the room while trying to adjust his mind away from holiday mode which contained his mind for the past 2 months.

School.

_Oh shit, school._

First day back at school. First day at school in Madrid, Mesut's eyes widened at the imagery in his head. Being in a foreign country and attending some International College of Spain in Madrid is hard. It's even harder when the language is uncomprehending for Germans, well, not all Germans, just him. Pulling out a plain loose grey shirt and a pair of black slim-fit jeans from the wardrobe, the boy stared at his reflection in the mirror. No fucking up at the first day of school, socialise, smile and be nice. The difference between reflection and his actual self, one will have to communicate. The crisp cool liquid ran softly through his tongue, waking him up from last night's slumber. Mesut looked over to Sami who lounged comfortably at the couch, reading some documents while taking a sip from the mug in his hand.

The boy cleared his throat and questioned unnervingly, "Sami, you know that I've got no idea about where to go right?"

His cousin turned around and looked at him with curiosity, "Yeah, I realised that, don't worry I'll take you to the bus stop before 8. It's not that far from here."

Mesut rolled his eyes at the statement. "Dude, if I get bashed by some guy on the bus then it'll be your fault ok?"

"Don't worry baby Mes, cousin Sami will always be here for you if you get hurt," The older man said sarcastically, chuckling at the frown upon the boy's expression,"I mean, you'll be fine. Mustafa made sure it was one of the best school in Madrid before you came."

"Well, he probably expected better "care" from that rate." Mesut complained whilst taking a bite from the plain toast in his plate.

"Awwwww, you're scared for the first day aren't ya?" Sami picked up the messy pile of note books on the lounge, hitting the bottom of the book gently against younger boy's head, gaining an unsatisfied groan, "Man you're already 16, why be afraid?"

"Spanish and English, your old time favourites." Mesut nudged his cousin with his elbow.

"Get going. You're gonna be late." Sami took a quick glanced at the wall clock and pulled out his cousin's chair, with the boy too.

-  
Social, communication, language. Few new aspects which needs to be absorbed for his new life. Trees, pedestrians passed by his sight. Eyes wondered through the street while the bus takes him on the not so magical journey. The trip was filled with cream white, blue and several car horns, until a voice startled him, causing the boy to turn.

"Hello there, are you new around here?"

The boy was taller than him, also more built around the upper body with a tanned skin. His eyes blinked with curiosity as he looked up to see a bright toothy grin.

"Yea, hi I'm Mesut." He held out his hand to exchange for a handshake, but gained a high five instead.

"I'm Cristiano, you can call me Cris if ya want," Cris' language was fluent, it wouldn't be hard for him to think that this kid was born from some English speaking country. Mesut looked at him as the other boy waved towards his friends as a signal of some sort, "I'll introduce you to them, so, this is Marcelo Vieira, you'll get to know him like anything." Cris pointed at the probably shortest boy with the craziest hair out of the group. "Beside him to the left is Pepe, then Karim, Ricky and Pipita."

Mesut waved with a faint smile. Not awkward at all. He's thinking more confused than awkward for the sake of being at school for the first day. Is this what people do in Spain or just some group's thing.

The other boys came to join them for the rest of the ride. When they arrived at the front gate, Mesut was surprised at the size of the school buildings in comparison with back in Gelsenkirchen while the other boys complained at the presence of school. Like the rest of the city, the exterior is painted cream white with a tint of grey for the roof. Large windows gleamed under the sun light, creating a bright scenery with a hint of green and blue.

He followed the rest of them into the grand hall, fitting in with the rest of students. Skin tones differ from European to many of other descends. Accents, height, age, everyone seemed different in some way, yet harmonised together with no issues.

"Mes you're in year 11 right?"

Mesut looked up and saw a grinning Marcelo. He nodded, "yea, you guys are in the same year right?"

"No shit Sherlock."  
-  
The boy basically slept through half of the introductory assembly until a familiar voice vibrated within his eardrum. He rubbed his eyes groggily, yearning on the last few seconds of darkness before opening his eyes. His sight shifted from his hands to the wide stage. His eyes widened at the sight.

"Holy fuck!" He muttered, retaining himself from exclaiming the words.

Within the education robes, tuxedos, fancy old looking skirts, old teachers, extremely old teachers, there stood Sergio Ramos, smiling at the crowd with his perfect, straight teeth. That's not the main issue right now. Mesut could feel his face reddening a little. Just a little. Yet, he could say that he's currently mad at Sami for not telling him about any of this, but that face though. Sergio's voice echoed within his mind. It was even more strange to see him standing in front of a hall of thousands, shoulders spread comfortably, delivering his speech with much confidence in his tone. It was a different tone comparing with the coffee shop incident, but still with the same warmth. The one day is going to spread into weeks, months may be even years, just within the small radius of a school. Mesut would say that the world is small. Yes, he'd assure himself of that.

Their eyes met, or probably didn't. Mesut could not ensure himself of that.

  
Astonishment.

Excitement.

The sound of claps vibrated the floor.

"Feel free to come around to the medical room to say hi, not about injuries of course. I'll also be taking part in the college football team, hope you all a happy and safe start to school."

That smile though.

 


	5. Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School seems fun, the introduction walk was even better.

"'You have rightly chosen,' said God,'for in my garden of paradise this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in my city of gold the Happy Prince shall praise me.'"

  
His eyes glanced at the last lines again before placing a book mark between the stained pages. Legs swung comfortably on the tables, this probably isn't the right gesture for work, but well, it's his office after all. The room was fulfilled with the scent of sanitizer along with the faint spray of jasmine which sat neatly next to the pile of documents. White blended in with more white and a hint of green as curtains which flowed along the summer breeze. Outside was still clear with few clouds which drifted along the wind. The world surrounding him rang with firm voices of adults which came through the corridor. Being a fresh graduate from university was uneasy. Finding a good job was more harsh. After travelling, it was finally time to settle down and work on his future. Thanks to some family friends which had a close relationships with the school principal, otherwise this well-paid employment would be somewhere off the moon.

  
Two years of Science stacked on with another seven years of Medicine had been the best times of his life. Sergio still remembered the girl who said hello to him every break. Pilar was her name. The curls within her tousled dark brown hair followed by every beautiful trace of Latin heritage written in her characteristics. She was different to him. Well, he was just a farm boy who loved football and happened to get into uni with enough marks for science. Then there's Iker. His best friend since young. They were on and off, renting the same apartment throughout their economy downtimes, but the relationship wasn't consisted of any intimacy. Foot steps clicked from the heel of leather shoes. The door opened in a sudden, startling him.

  
'Aye Sergio—'

  
Sergio gazed at the old man with an astonished look, questioned, "Hey boss, how can I help ya today?"

  
Mourinho raised his eyebrows unwittingly, 'can you take a new kid around for a tour? He's in the admin building. You'll like the kid, he's the one that got the sports scholarship. I've got some conference with the Board of studies people in five so I've gotta get going.'

  
'Yea? What's the kid's name—well shit.' It was just the matter of time until he finished his line when the principal hurried out the room.

  
Fingers brushed through his short hair, letting out a groan before he closed the door behind. It's not a fucking war Sergio, it's just a school.   
  
\-   
  
After the assembly, Mesut left the boys to the admin. The way to the main building was complicated. Multitude turns and crosses all seemed to be the same, yet, he doesn't actually know where the place is. He regretted for his refusal to attend the open days at the end of last year, trotting his way towards what he believed to be the centre of the school. Well, at least the most decorated.

  
'Hi, I was told to come to the admin to see uh.. Mr Mourinho?' He greeted the lady at the front desk.

  
'Oh you must be Mesut! Josè said to just take a seat in his office and someone will come and get ya."

  
'Ok. Thanks miss!' The boy smiled.

  
'The room is just upstairs to the right, you'll see it when you get there.' The voice faded.

  
Wood cracked at the applied pressure. Primitive china vases drizzled the place with elegance, yet contrasted with multitude photos of famous football players and trophies in the glass cabinet at the top of the stairs. His fingers traced over the gold trophies which glistened under the reflection of light. Untarnished, the sign "winners 1997" glowed by the accompaniment of other numbers with pride.

  
"Well, hello."

  
Mesut turned at the voice, astonished by the familiarity, then lets out a long sigh and chuckled at a grinning Sergio. 'Did you suddenly get your job raised to the school principal or something? I was hoping to some 60 years old dude.'

  
'Like I said in the morning, I'm your current acting school medic,' Sergio letted a bowing gesture, earning himself some claps, 'Mourinho asked me to take you around for a tour, so shall we?'

  
'Cool stuff,' Mesut followed him by the side, joked, 'nice white robe, you look uh, fancy in it.'

  
'Thanks, I'm hoping that it'll make me look 40.' Sergio answered back sarcastically, grinning.

  
'Nah, I believe all the girls out there wish that you're only 25. Mein Gott, Sergi— Mr Ramos, you should've seen their faces this morning.'

  
'Sergio is fine. I don't teach anyway. You jealous?" The older man teased.

  
'Damn mate, why should I?' Mesut raised his eyebrows and gave him a knudge.

  
Sergio blinked once. Twice. Placed his hand on the boy's lean shoulder to indicate his direction out the open area and stated. 'You should, because I care.'

  
'Tell me that you don't, please.' The boy contemplated, 'Ok my name is Mesut Özil, I came from Germany and I'm 17.'

  
'What?' The Spanish's eyes stared with astonishment.

  
'The introduction thing! Remember two weeks ago in the coffee shop?' Mesut pouted at his reaction. Right hand brushed his long fringe back from the breeze.

  
'Oh yea that. I'm Sergio Ramos, 26 years old, nice to meet you. 'He couldn't help anything but held his hand out.

  
The younger boy took the gesture and shook gently, lips now pressing together as a faint smile. 'Can I say that this is awkward?'

  
'Nope, now you're one of my student.'

  
The greenery reflected under the noon light, heating against the concrete. Mesut looked in the man's eyes with an unimpressed expression, complained, 'then Mr Ramos, where are we actually going.'

  
'Don't call me that, it's weird.' The pair stopped infront of the fenced field. 'This is the football field and I'll probably just take you back to class? What are you meant to do?'

  
'You're the teacher here!' Mesut exclaimed and groaned, covering his face. Spending any more time with this guy is going to be the death of him.

  
'Then go back to class?' The older man shrugged.

  
'Um, where's the science department...? I've got biology second period.' The boy pulled against his sleeve, suggested.

  
'Next to my room so, I'll walk you back.' Sergio couldn't tell if the heat was from the weather, or the robe, or just him. His hand found its way back on the boy's shoulder, suggesting him to turn at the corner.

  
'Ok, thanks.' The boy didn't seem to hesitate, yet silence fell between the pair.

  
Morning sun riadiated through the large windows, lighting the corridor with gentle glows. The boy's soft brown hair, distinctive features seemed softer and more lovely. Sergio's voice seemed lost with the thoughts, stumbling in his mind. His mouth opened yet there was the constant need of reassurance.

  
'Sergio do you want to go for coffee on Saturday?' They're eyes met. Sergio's pulse thumped. 'I thought it would've been nice if I, uh, at least say thanks for last week...'

  
The quiet voice tingled against the man's palm. His hands squeezed on the boy's shoulder, gaining an 'Ow' then ruffled within his hair, 'I'll see you on Saturday as well then.' Sergio grinned.

  
'Oop, there's my class and I'll see you later?' The pair turned right to a near corridor. Scent of chemical fume smothered the place. Mesut glanced through the glass, seeing familiar faces of the boys and few stares from the other classmates.

  
'Do you want me to take you home today? I finish at 4 today so, yea if you want just, text me at lunch or something.' The man stated with a smile, while waving to the teacher.

  
'Um, I'll see. Thanks again.' Mesut's hand turned at the doorknob. 'I'll see you later.' Everything was normal. Only on the outside.  
-  
The moment he made entrance to the class, Mesut felt his heart beating. The teacher suggested him to take a seat next to Marcelo, however the curious, even judgemental expressions on few of his classmates made him feel uncomfortable.

  
'Welcome our new German student to the class, my name is Mr Casillas and I will be teaching you biology this year.' The teacher spoke in a firm tone, his Spanish accent enforces some senses of determination which contrasted against his age. The smiling expression somehow depicted a hidden message, making the boy curious.

  
'Hi I'm Mesut Özil, nice to meet you all.' Mesut greeted, regretting in one split seconds.

  
A chuckling Marcelo is going to be the end of him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys. <3


	6. Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll take you home if you'd like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> late update:( sorry guys.
> 
> Any comments, kudos, anything would be much appreciated.
> 
> Thank you and please enjoy.
> 
> It is unbetaed as usual, sorry for the inconvenience.

I felt a haunting loneliness sometimes, and felt it in others--young clerks in the dusk, wasting the most poignant moments of night and life.  
—The Great Gatsby

-  
English: Mr David Beckham:  
Mesut was definitely not interested into studying The Great Gatsby, especially with a English teacher who draws out the awes from basically all the girls in his class. Gazing around seeing the glittery sparkles in the girls' eyes, the boy leaned into his chair lethargically. 'Twas already half way through the lesson after the introduction of all students.

  
'Psst, Mes,' whispered one of the four Portugese from behind.

  
'What?' Mesut turned around at the call.

  
'Where did ya go in History,' it's definitely Cris' voice.

  
'Tour around the school, what's wrong?' Replied Mesut, while sensing the stare from his teacher.

  
'With the school med?' Mesut could foreshadow his consequence already, suggesting the Portuguese to stop.

  
'Mourinho wasn't there so he took me around, I'll talk to ya later.' He muttered, returning his sight back to the front board.

  
Mesut could hear his voice blurring in the background.

  
'Mr Ronaldo, may I have a word with you when we finish this lesson?' Mr Beckham projected his voice, shooting a quick glance at Mesut. The boy felt a thump in his rib cage. He's in deep shit now...

  
That teacher was definitely not smiling.

-  
Math: Mr David Villa and a passing by chemistry teacher Mr Lionel Messi  
'Hey David, you want to come for lunch afterwards—oh oops never mind,' the class suddenly woke up from their despair to the hurried, joyous voice at the door.

  
The math teacher turned to the class, 'guys go back to work, I'll be back in 10secs.'

  
There goes another one, straight out of the door.  
-  
It wasn't until lunch for the boy to share some "socialising" time. The group sat around the goal posts on the luscious soccer field, nibbling on their lunches while communicating to its finest.

  
'So how was your walk,' asked Cris, eyeing Mesut with a raised eyebrow.

  
'Dude don't look at me like that, I didn't get you into trouble ok?' The German gave him a gentle knudge and laughed.

  
'The whole class was shocked when you walked in!' Exclaimed Marcelo from the other side of the circle. Mesut opened his eyes widely at the comment.

  
'They what? Why?' The German boy questioned, then took another bite of the carrot stick, looking worried.

  
'"Oh how come he gets to go with the hot teacher?" Said every girl in the bloody class. I don't know why? Thought you were going to die from all the angry women," joked Marcelo while projecting a high pitched voice. The boys laughed at the appropriation, then Cris threw the ball over to Karim.

  
'Mes, come for a run, I'll race ya,' the Portugese got up onto his feet, dragging the German boy with him.

  
'To where? Wait—' Mesut asked, rubbing his eyes while standing reluctantly then realised the disappearance of his friend.

  
His only regret was to run in jeans. The boy missed the days when his team used to play games on the grass during warm weathers. The breeze brushed his fringe backwards opening his eyes to the glare from the oily green softness. Each step firm, pouncing off the ground. It didn't take long for him to catch up, yet only seconds until they both stopped, heavily breathing and walking slowly to reduce the pounding heart beat.

  
'You really can run,' complimented Cris, giving Mesut a gentle knudge, grinning widely.

  
'Thanks, you too,' Mesut smiled and stretched out his arm, yawning, 'so what was the running about anyway?'

  
'To check if you were fit for the club?'

  
The German blinked once, twice, stared at the other boy with wide, confused eyes.

  
'The football club,' the pair began their trek back to the group.

  
Cris chuckled at the confused German and didn't answer anything else.

-  
School finished in a swift of time. The buildings emptied as if there was an evacuation, his ear drums was tormented by loud voices yet in just a few minutes everything was in silence. The boy's eyes gazed through the neatly polished glass panels while walking down the empty hallway. Soothing afternoon sun added a tint of warmth to the plain classrooms, the. Then he found himself contemplating infront of the medical room again.

  
He knocked on the wooden frame, then turned the door knob gently. Mesut wasn't surprised to see the few hundred sheets of paper scattered over the floor. He crouched to pick up a few random pieces and wondered, eyes focused on the complicated phrases.

  
"I've got the whole school's medical documents around here," stated a gentle voice in the back.

  
Mesut placed the pages onto the wooden desk, eyes reluctantly leaving the interesting writing, "you need to file these?"

  
Sergio scratched the back of his neck and picked up a few more, "yea, I'll probably need to get it done before Wednesday, won't take too long."

  
'Uh, I can help you sort them out today,' Mesut offered, still reading through the numerous pages of different content, 'just as a payback for the coffee ok?'

  
'In year groups thanks, really appreciate that.' Sergio suggested the boy to take a sit in his chair and leaned against the wall.

  
Shuffling sound of papers echoed in Sergio's ears, yet he could not stop the constant glances of his eyes as if the boy was magnetic of some sort. The dim table light accompanied by the warm glow from the afternoon sunset traced Mesut's slim silhouette, yet highlighting those features which interests him. Sergio found himself pouring a glass of water for the teenager, heart thumped at the curve of his thin lips and soft response, but he couldn't.

  
It wasn't until around five when the pair finished the sorting work. Mesut leaned back in his chair and took the last sip from his glass. Refreshing coolness from the tasteless liquid woke the boy from his long daydream. 'Shit I need to get home....'

  
Sergio placed the folders of files on the shelf above the boy's head and grabbed his bag from the ground, 'well I'm going, shut the door behind ya.'

  
When they got to the car, Mesut's expression was filled with astonishment and surprise, eyes wide at the brand new Audi A3 and its black lacquer which shone with pride under the sunlight. "I thought you just graduated...." His knee bumped into the glove box button and mouth parted at the well wrapped Swarovski gift box and Hugo Boss cologne. "Never mind, I never said everything."

  
"I had savings ok," Sergio chuckled at the comment and replied while starting up the engine.

  
It didn't took long for Mesut to fall deeply asleep on the comfortable leather chair. It also didn't took long for the man to the apartment. Sergio stared at the boy's reflection in the mirror and let out a sigh as he grabs his jacket from the back seat and tucked it in for Mesut. He's afraid and hoped it to never have happened.

  
When Mesut woke up, it was to the deafening sound of a truck's reverse alarm. His eyes opened in a sudden and felt a sudden ache on his head as he jerked awake. "Ow....." Then there was the chuckling sound of Sergio, which turned his cheeks bright pink. He peeked at the book within the man's hands curiously, then came to a sudden realisation, 'shit, it's nearly 6,' the boy mumbled to himself as he folded the jacket neatly and placed it aside, 'um, thanks for the ride Sergio,' their eyes made contact again, Mesut smiled a little before he opened the door and looked away, 'I'll see you tomorrow, or the next day, or I don't know.. Whenever. Have a good night!'

  
Sergio stared at the slowly disappearing silhouette and let out a deep sigh before driving away, right hand swiped over his phone's lock screen. He's too nice for him.

  
When Mesut opened the door, it was to a worried Sami which literally sprinted to greet him, 'had a long day I see?' The boy could sense the relief in his cousin's voice. 'Dinner is ready on the table.'

  
Mesut gave his cousin a quick pat on the back before dumping the dead weight off his shoulder. 'Don't worry bro, I'm back in one piece.'

'Did Sergio take you back today?'

'Yes Sam?'

'Oh.'

 

 


End file.
